Wood: A True Lover's Story

“Mmmm,” Wood agreed. He eyed him for a moment before he spoke to their server without breaking his and Trent’s eye contact. “I think I’ll pass on the panna cotta. I have something sweet already at home.”

Trent had to clear his throat. “Can I get the check, please?”

“Of course.” The waiter pointed to Wood’s plate. “I can box the remaining for you if you’d like.”

Wood patted his flat stomach. “No, I’m finished. Thanks.”

The server continued to clear their table. “You guys come back and see us soon.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Wood whispered when Sean was out of earshot. He lifted the cross resting around Trent’s neck, his knuckles brushing gently against his sternum. “Do you have religion, Trent?”

Trent dropped his eyes to his cross. “If you’re asking do I believe in God, then the answer is yes.”

“Do you go to church?” Wood asked cautiously.

Trent almost snorted. “Have you once seen me go to church since you’ve been living with me?”

“No. Can’t say I have.”

“All right then.” Trent chuckled, but his laugh faded when he noticed Wood didn’t appear to find his response funny.

“Are you against church or worshipping God?” Wood released his necklace.

“No, of course not.”

Wood was staring out at the empty beach when the waiter returned with their check. Trent quickly whipped out several twenties and slid it inside the billfold. When Sean left around the corner, Trent pressed his chest against Wood’s back, idly massaging his big shoulders as he spoke softly against his ear. “I know you come from a religious home. If you want to go to church, Wood, then I’ll go. I guess I can experience something like that with you.”

Wood reached up and removed Trent’s hand where it lay on his bicep. He practically melted as Wood brought it to his mouth and placed a long appreciative kiss in the center of Trent’s rough palm. He dipped his head and nudged Wood against his temple, hoping he hadn’t insulted him by making light of his faith. Somehow, they’d infused themselves together again at the first opportunity, their bodies connected and lips close to doing the same. “I don’t want this thing between us—whatever it may be—to be one-sided. I care about what you want too, y’know. So, yeah. Let’s go to church.”

Wood fully turned to look at him with an expression of shock and maybe a little confusion.

“Stop gaping at me like that. I’m not as selfish as Bishop and Mike say I am.”

“You’re not selfish at all, Trent.”

Trent nodded, then thought of something. “You will make sure we’re home before Sunday kickoff though, right? I mean, it’s the playoffs.”

Wood shook his head, his gaze slightly amused. “Baby, you are nothing like they said you were.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Wood

Instead of taking a left when they walked out of the restaurant doors, Wood took Trent’s hand and led him the few feet toward the boardwalk.

“The truck is the other way,” Trent said, pointing across Atlantic Avenue.

“I know that.” Wood wrapped his arm around Trent’s shoulder, smirking at the annoyance he saw in his eyes. “What’s the rush, huh? It’s early.”

Trent shivered as a gust of chill blew through them. “It’s nine thirty, and it’s like forty degrees out here.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He kissed Trent on his temple and hugged him close, trying to block him from most of the frigid wind. “Don’t you wanna listen to the ocean for a little while?”

Trent angled his face so that his lips were barely grazing Wood’s lower jaw. “Yeah, all right. Maybe for a little while.”

“Just one block, I promise,” Wood whispered. “It’s amazing the small things you miss when it’s gone. Like the sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore when I walk. Holding hands with someone special under the moonlight.”

It was quiet, peaceful as they walked together. Farther down, maybe ten blocks, he saw another couple, but by no means were many residents out enjoying the winter air.

“Let’s sit right here for a minute.” Wood stopped their stroll and took Trent to one of the many benches lining the boardwalk. He sat down first, then pulled Trent onto his lap, settling him snugly on top of his thighs.

“What are you doing?” Trent asked, glancing around but making zero effort to get up or slide over to the rest of the bench.

“Just thought you’d enjoy sitting right here.” Wood wrapped one arm around Trent’s back while cupping the side of his neck with the other hand. He was already inching down a piece of the smooth, black material concealing Trent’s warm throat when he asked, “You want me to let you up?”

“No,” Trent replied quickly.

“Mmmm,” Wood hummed. He ran his thumb along Trent’s thudding pulse. The possessive red mark he’d left earlier was visible even in the darkness. Without a second thought, Wood latched on to the same place and gently tugged at the sweet skin.